Sunday Sometime, Vol. 3, #25: The Always Something There to Remind Me" Issue
As I cope day-to-day with my new solitary existence I look around and see reminders of Anne Marie everywhere. An example, I look up from my computer onto the back yard and I can see the park bench Sydney (our first cat) and I gave her one Mother's Day about 20 years ago. I recall that she was thrilled with the gift which she hinted strongly that she wanted. I recall her using it once, but I hope I am wrong and she did sit on it more often than I was around to bear witness.
A little closer to the house is a hexagonal picnic table and benches set. We used them often over the years and I have many nice memories of those picnics. Now that she is gone, I fear I will not use the table and benches ever again. The regret that we didn't use the set more often sets in soon afterward.
Inside the house the things we bought for each other and used are everywhere. The shared vinyl record collection (more mine than hers truth be told); our collections of books and DVDS; the shared collection of souvenir shot glasses....and all else that made our relationship feel so right for so long.
At the moment these possessions are also meaningless. I doubt that this is a case where I should sing two verses of "There's Always Something There to Remind Me" and call a professional in the morning.
The thought hits me: this is all part of letting go. I will surely sell the various collections at some point, but for now the process of sale and satisfaction that all possessions are finding new homes hasn't registered yet. I am learning that all of this takes time and it takes time to learn that it takes time.
Does that make sense?
Then there is the case of the flickering light bulb. This is a lamp which I have had and used since I was an adolescent at my parent's house. It hung on the wall of our den where I usually sat to watch television. I acquired it once the old homestead was sold. It is now on the wall near my home computer where I work, correspond and incidentally, write my blog posts.
The lamp has one of those new-fangled twisty bulbs which may nearing the end of its life. This may explain why recently it will suddenly start flickering when I have it on to see what I am writing more clearly.
The bulb did not ever do this...until Anne Marie passed away.
Okay, forget "There's Always Something There to Remind Me." Time to queue "The Twilight Zone Theme".
(Thank you for reading. Submitted for your approval....)
posted by todd gunther | 3:55 PM
13 Comments:
I hope your shared collections bring you some comfort in these initial stages of grief. AND the flickering light bulb too!
Yes this all makes sense; it is all normal.
I think you'll know when it's truly time to let some things go, and when it's things you long to keep.
And I'm guessing AM is toying you with the light. At least that's what I'd like to think as I still create blog posts and wonder what she would say about the topics. She truly was, and is, a Warrior Queen.
yes the memories are daily...weekly and yearly.... Continue on You are in the time of first's the first time I've done this without.....
take care.... Kent
I think Bob is right. You will know when the time is right to give things up or sell them off. I have very few things of my dear grandmother, but my memories are still very strong and intact, and nothing can replace them.
Also, as for the flickering light bulb...she might be fucking with you...so I would say now is not the time to listen to ABBA yet. If you want ABBA come to the Casa or may I suggest wearing ear buds.
Love and hugs!!!!!
This can't have been a comfortable post for you to write. It wasn't exactly easy to read either, as we can feel the ongoing heartfelt loss through your words. But it's better out than you bottling it up inside. Do please write further on the subject , or anything else, when you feel the need.
Without wishing to detract from your description of that light bulb, I might mention a rather similar story when my mum died 16 years ago and when I was in her flat with my younger brother on the day of the funeral, just as we were about to join the others, a seed-tray for the birds which she'd had attached with rubber plungers to the outside of her main window for over 20 years, fell off and smashed in two on the ground 20 feet below. Feeding the birds had always been a big thing with her, a marvellous thing too, but this occurrence just at that moment really seemed like a message from above. So I fully understand your interpretation of what was going on with that lightbulb.
Do please continue to blog on whatever subject you wish. just letting us know that you - and the pussycats - are all okay.
Very best wishes.
It takes time, each of us moves through this differently. Feel what you feel, talk about what you want or need to talk about (the hardest part can be someone willing to listen.) Some find comfort in the reminders, others don't, and that is okay. Do what works for you.
Thank you for sharing your feelings in such an intimate way. I both laughed and shed a few tears reading this post. We all miss her, just none of us quite like you. On and I believe She’s there with you alright. I have a different take than the Mistress, I say fuck with her and play some ABBA but be ready in case things start flying.
Sending you a big hug.
XOXO
Hi Debra. Yes, I am learning that the memories will produce good happy thoughts that could spiral into sadness. I am learning to take both at the same time.
Thank you, Spo for your thoughts and phone calls.
Yes, I believe WQ is communicating to me when the light flickers. I hope the flickering continues for some time.
Thank you Kent. I'm still learning that this will all take time.
Hi Mistress. I'm torn on Abba, but for now there are other things to listen to. I should call you soon.
Thank you Raybeard for your encouraging words. I do not want to bore readers, but I can't escape the idea that I will more posts like this in the foreseeable future. If they are insightful to the point where people can take something from it, then that will be fine. I will always try to make my thoughts interesting. BTW, a great story about the bird feed tray. Those who leave us behind are always here with us somehow.
Thank you Travel. Your thoughts are encouraging. I know I need to respond to your letter soon.
Thank you Fearsome. Hmm...that would be an interesting experiment: to play Abba and see what happens.
Hugs are always welcome Sixpence.
You may find this difficult to believe, but time is on your side.
Coping with loss takes plenty of time... and you should take the time and feel (and write about) all of it. It's a very important process... but how can one achieve closure with something that never truly feels finished? That's part of the process, too. My heart to you. Kizzes.
I echo Fearsome's sentiment: We all miss her, just none of us quite like you. Sending hugs.
Sassybear
www.idleeyesandadormy.com
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